The Taste of Gatorade
by f.f. lindy
Summary: Scully has a hard night


Title: The Taste of Gatorade

Author: f.f. lindy

Authors Notes: I haven't posted anything since high school, but I decided it was time to try it again (its amazing the inspiration that buying 4 seasons of x-files on DVD will provide) and so here it goes. Please let me know what you think. I could use any encouragement or advice you have to dispense. This is set some time not long after Triangle. . .

I was drifting somewhere between sleep and wakefulness on the couch with the television on mute at two o'clock in the morning when I jumped awake. My phone on its charger was vibrating, and suddenly I was wide-awake, trying to will my pulse to slow. I would never get used to the sound of a phone call in the middle of the night. The screen read "Scully" and I was instantly worried. "Mulder," I answered.

"Hi, Agent Mulder, this is Karen. I'm a friend of Dana." I heard a lot of laughter in the background, which was all that put my mind at ease. "You're the first number on speed dial in her phone, so I figured you would be the best one to call. I know it's late, but I need you to come over to Dana's place as soon as you can."

"What's wrong?"

"Well, we all went out tonight, and she had a little to much to drink." There was more laughter and screaming in the background.

"I'll be there in a minute."

I pulled on a jacket and forced my feet into my shoes as I walked out the door, keys in hand. I pulled up at Scully's building and saw all the lights on in her apartment. When I knocked on the door the woman who I assumed was Karen answered. "Thank you so much for coming."

"Yeah," I said, not really knowing how to word what I wanted to tell her. "Where's Scully?"

"She's in the bathroom," the woman showed me inside. On the couch were three women, all looking about Scully's age, all giddy with alcohol. "She's sick."

"Foxy," one of the women from the couch squealed.

"I'm so sorry about this. I just, I need to get these ladies home. They all have husbands probably wondering where they are, and god knows none of them are making it home safely without me. DD," she explained.

"So, Scully is in the bathroom?"

"Yacking!" one of the women on the couch announced.

"I'm sorry. I have to get going. Ladies, we're going," Karen told the group of women. "Just make sure she has some water after she's done. I'm sure she'll be ready for bed." With that all four women were out the door and tromping noisily down the hall.

I walked through the bedroom and into the bathroom. "Scully," I said softly. She was quite literally hugging the toilet. I could see about six inches of her back, the tattoo of a snake that I had never before had such a view of, and about two inches of her butt. "Scully," I repeated. She didn't move. I walked around to the other side of the toilet and found her face on the seat, her mouth over the edge and a little drool pooling on the side of her face. I ran a hand up her arm. She was cold. I shook her lightly. "Scully, are you okay?" She still didn't respond. "Scully," I said aloud, shaking her harder.

She groaned and spit a little. I was relieved to see her move at all. "Scully, lets get you up."

She leaned a little further into the bowl of the toilet and heaved. I pulled her hair back out of her face and held it gently. I could feel wet in it that I could only guess was vomit from earlier in the evening. My face worked into a frown. When she stopped actively heaving I ran to the kitchen, dug through the cabinets for a plastic tumbler, and filled it with water. I dashed back to the bathroom and handed it to her so she could rinse out her mouth.

"Come on, let's get up." I helped her to her feet.

"Where did you come from?"

"Karen called me. She had to take the other girls home."

"You can go home, Mulder. I'm fine," she said slowly.

"I don't think so," I took her arm and guided her back to her bedroom. I sat her down on her bed and grabbed the wastebasket from her doorway. "Hold this," I suggested. "Just in case." I started rummaging through her drawers in search of a pair of pajamas. "Are you ready for bed?" I asked.

She nodded, her face in the trashcan. I walked back to her and took the bucket away long enough to help her take off her shirt and put the pajamas over her head. She started wiggling, trying to get her bra off under the shirt. I reached my hands up under the baggy pajama top I had just put on her and unhooked the bra. I expected a comment about watching my hands, or about her being able to do it on her own, but she did not say a word, she didn't even smile, didn't even raise an eyebrow as my hand accidentally grazed her bare breast. I stood her up to unbutton her pants. "Nuh uh," she mumbled.

There's my Scully, I thought, until she pulled the garbage can off the bed beside her and threw up into it. When she was done she looked up at me. "My throat hurts," she said. Her eyes looked sad.

I grabbed the tumbler of water off the counter in the bathroom and let her sip it. "I know," I said, "I'm sorry." I rubbed her back and let her sit back down. I took the trashcan and she laid back on the bed. I slipped off her pants and tugged a pair of bottoms that matched the top I had already managed to get on her over her hips. I pulled back the covers and practically picked her up to put her in the bed. I pulled the covers up over her and turned off the overhead light. I rinsed out the garbage can and set it back down next to her. "I'm going to leave this here, and the water here on your nightstand."

She groaned and reached for my hand. Suddenly I felt very guilty about my plan to sleep on the couch. I couldn't leave her. "I'll be back in just a minute." After locking the door and turning off the lights I sat down on the bed opposite her, keeping a safe distance. I listened to her breathing go from ragged to steady and knew she had fallen asleep. Once she was sleeping soundly, I let myself recline in the bed. It didn't take long before I was drifting off as well.

When I woke up in the morning she was still asleep beside me. I tried to get up carefully so I wouldn't wake her, but I looked over at her just in time to see her eyes pop open. "Mulder!"

"Good morning. How are you feeling?"

"What the hell are you doing here?" She looked under the covers and I knew it was to make sure she was clothed, although neither of us would say it.

"Karen called me last night. You were throwing up. Remember?"

"How did I get to bed?"

"I put you to bed. Karen called me when she had to leave, you were in pretty bad shape."

"So you put me in my pajamas, and put me in bed?"

"Well I was going to get you in the shower and try to get some of the vomit out of your hair, but I didn't think you would stay awake long enough."

"Thanks," she said, her tone finally losing some of its harshness.

"Any time. But, really, I'd just assume not any time soon."

She smiled weakly. "Deal."

"How are you feeling?"

"I could use some water," she said. "And my head," she looked at the window and winced at all the light.

I got out of bed and closed her blinds. "I'll go get you a clean glass." I picked up the tumbler from the nightstand and went to the kitchen to get her a glass that didn't have traces of stomach acid on it.

After she had downed a glass of water I let her lie back down and close her eyes. I went back into the kitchen and cleaned up the mess that the drunken women had undoubtedly made the night before. Once it was clean I started breakfast. I found a cookbook and searched for a pancake recipe, knowing that pancakes were my favorite hangover cure.

I pulled everything out that I would need, only to realize that Scully had no eggs in her refrigerator. I put my jacket back on and left a brief note before walking out the door and down to a store a few blocks away.

I bought a dozen eggs and a bottle of Gatorade, knowing the electrolytes would help. Sure that I had everything I would need I walked back up to Scully's apartment, letting myself in with my key. The shower was running when I entered the building. I got the pancake mix started and brewed a pot of coffee, and upon hearing the water turn off I turned on the stove.

A few minutes later she walked out of her bedroom, her hair still wet and wearing a pair of loose fitting pants and a shell. "How are you feeling?" I asked.

She groaned.

"I made breakfast," I said.

"Coffee," she requested.

I poured her a cup and put a little bit of the soy milk from the refrigerator in it, knowing that was the way she liked it when soy was an option. She sipped the coffee and sat down at the table. "You cooked?"

"Pancakes and eggs," I said. "It's exactly what I always wish I had the energy to make when I'm hung over. But I usually just drive to IHOP." I put a couple pancakes on a plate and cracked and egg into the pan that I already had heated. Once her egg was over easy I placed it on top of her pancakes and set it down in front of her.

I heard her contentment as she took a bite. I made myself a plate and sat down across from her at the table. I smiled at her over our meals. "You think you're going to be able to keep this down?" I asked.

"I feel a lot better," she said, "just a little…"

"Like your brain is swollen and trying make your head explode.

"I haven't been this hung over since med school."

"I bet you haven't thrown up like that since med school."

She sighed. "I'm sorry you had to see that."

"Don't worry, I've seen it before. I'm just glad your hair is clean," I reached over and ran my fingers through her towel-dried hair.

"You and me both."

After we had finished our breakfasts I brought her the bottle of Gatorade. "Drink this," I said as I started dishes.

"Mulder, that's disgusting. Where did you find it?"

"I walked down to the store. You needed eggs."

She looked at the Gatorade as if I was asking her to drink poison. "And you bought this stuff?"

"It's good for a hangover, Scully. The electrolytes help. Believe it or not I have had a few mornings feeling about like you do now."

She sighed and opened the bottle.

"Did you at least have fun last night?"

"I know driving to the bar was fun. After that it all gets a little hazy."

"How much did you have to drink?"

"Well we all took a few shots for the road before we left Karen's and by the time I had my first Long Island Iced Tea I didn't really know what I was doing."

"Scully? I didn't know you had it in you."

"Obviously if I ever did I don't anymore. I remember throwing up once at the bar, but I don't even remember getting home. I hate not remembering."

"Your friends took care of you."

"I'm sorry Karen called you. I don't know how she got your number."

"Your phone. I'm first on your speed dial? I must say I'm flattered."

"You should be, there's some stiff competition for that spot. Skinner, my mom, the hospital," she teased.

"Well I'm glad I am. I wouldn't have wanted Skinner putting you in your pajamas last night."

"That makes two of us," she said, a slight blush on her cheeks. "Hey Mulder, last night when I was drunk, I didn't say anything," she searched for the right words, "embarrassing, did I?"

"No," I said, looking back down at the dishes. I knew exactly what she was talking about. The words we had been dancing around for much too long.

"Good, because I wouldn't want you thinking I just said it because I was drunk," she said, walking up behind me and setting her hands on my back. "I know how hard it is to hear those words from someone and feel like it was just because he was…"

"I was on pain relievers, Scully, but I still know exactly what I said, and I meant it," I said, unable to listen to her talk about this in such general terms again. I knew she was talking about that day in the hospital, when I finally found some drug induced balls and told her how I felt.

When I turned to look at her she was silent, and looking at her feet.

"You think I would spend my Saturday night watching you upchuck if I didn't love you?" I asked, trying to lighten the mood.

"You think I'd have to ask if it slipped out while I was drunk if I didn't love you?" she asked, looking up at me, tears glistening in her eyes. I wrapped her in a hug, not knowing if they were tears of pain or happiness, but wanting her to feel the love radiating from me either way. She smashed her face into the crook of my neck and I felt like it belonged there. "Are we crazy?" I felt her ask.

A smile grew across my face. "Completely." I couldn't tell if she was burrowing herself into me or shaking her head. I kissed her neck and trailed them up to her chin, hoping that she would pull her face up a little so I could kiss her mouth. She allowed me to bring my lips to hers and opened her mouth a little. I explored her with my tongue, tasting the sweet Gatorade in her mouth.

I was surprised when she didn't pull away first. She let me kiss her until I was out of breath, and seemed to grasp for more as I released her mouth from mine. She smiled and looked up into my eyes. "I always wanted someone to who'd cook me breakfast," she said mischievously.

"See, we were meant to be."


End file.
